


Shades of the Past

by JanaRumpandRCClara



Series: Give the 3some the scifi [6]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suspense, Time Travel, dafuqminhagente
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCClara/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCClara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming to live at this house was an attempt to forget all the shit Tony'd been through in the last five years, one he intended to honor by not thinking about anything. At all. He steped through the threshold, which almost didn’t look like some old thing back from the 18th century - the renovation had paid off, it seemed.<br/>Anyway, it was not like he planned to stay here for long. Or anywhere else, for that matter.</p><p> </p><p>Or in which space-time is not such a barrier</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The road so far

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, mishamigos! This is JanaRump and RCClara (or Jana and Clara, if you wish) at your service.  
> It's our first time on Archive, so please be gentle. This fic (still in progress, btw) is written by Clara and beta'd by Jana. Neither of us has english as a first language, so feel free to warn us if there are any mistakes.  
> Hope you like our baby and keep going until the end (a might long way, fyi).  
> Obs.: it was supposed to be a PWP, but Frostirony got out of hand.  
> P.S.: it's a Time Travel AU (for now, Muajajaja), so the timelines may be confusing. EVERYTHING has an explanation, though (feel free to ask).  
> Leave comments and kudos à laise. Lots of love, see ya around.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: oh gods, we were such confusing people  
> Anyway, summaries are a bitch, so here goes the basic concept: for pseudo scientific reason to be later explained, the fabric of time is disturbed in an especific house, bringing unlikely people together. There are some heavy themes all around, some of which we'll erase while revising the fic.  
> Good luck and I hope you'll like it :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: omg we are back to this. remastered first chapter, 3/23/15

_Louisiana, January,1880_

The house was silent and empty. It felt as if no one had ever lived there, as if no one had ever shared happy days within those walls. Loki couldn’t remember how to smile, how to live alone in there, so he just sat on an armchair in the children’s room, a blank look on his eyes. Thor had come earlier, trying once more to convince his brother to return to normal life. Loki had ignored it all, though. He simply did not want things to go back to the way they were. 

Ever since his six children had died, one by one, more than a year ago, he had barely left the room. Sometimes, the grieving father could swear he heard footsteps through the hallways, or an ironic laugh on the air, coming from nowhere. He was probably going mad, but then again, who wouldn’t? The people from the small town nearby believed he was the one to blame for the kids' and even for his wife’s death. Loki didn’t know how to handle all this, so closing his eyes and letting his head fall back he tried not to think at all, not to feel. Somewhere in the house, he heard footsteps, not the ones from his brother this time. His green eyes opened immediately, scared, angered and tense. The killer was there again.

_Louisiana, May,1885_

The ruins in front of his eyes had made him want to shed tears. Those ashes had once been his family’s home, his older brother’s home. Even if nowadays the renovation was almost done, it would never be the same. 

Thor had then become virtually obsessed with rebuilding the house, and even his wife had left him, had not been able to deal with that. Well, he wanted to blame her for leaving, but all he could do was to accept it. 

After his nephews had died, he'd tried to pull his brother out of the dark hole he had crouched into. It had all been in vain in the end, though, It had now been five years from the day Loki had set fire to the house, himself in it, and the only thing found had been his blackened corpse on the first floor. With all that, the once joyful and irresponsible man had had to grow up. 

Thor sighed. His dream of the last years was now almost ready, but then, was he really ready to live in the house were his brother had gone mad? He wasn’t sure. Many construction workers had given up, saying the house was cursed, and considering the eight graves on the back he couldn’t quite say they were telling a lie. Some bad energy infused the land, but hopefully it would all be gone now.

_Louisiana, January, 1947_

Steve’s steps were a bit unsure as he entered what was going to be his new house, carrying in his arms a couple of boxes with his things. 

The moving was half way through, but he still felt strange there. Bruce had warned him that something like this may happen. Steve had just gotten back from war, after all the trauma still carved deep inside him. Bucky and Peggy were no longer there, so he had decided to move away from the Brooklyn and all the memories it brought. 

The unexpected death of his father’s brother, leaving the house to him, had fit it like a glove. Of course he had felt bad about moving in so soon, but he and Bucky – not his friend, but a beagle dog he'd received from his fellow soldiers when the war was over - needed to be away from New York. 

The dog was now moving around the house, sniffing everything. He looked just as uneasy as his owner. The captain put the boxes on the kitchen table, and as he was leaving he read – written with Peggy’s handwriting – a simple word that made him crumble all over again. Baby. 

_Louisiana, February, 2010_

Tony parked his black BMW in front of the old white house. The moving truck had already arrived and put everything on its place. The billionaire had wanted everything to be inside before he arrived, he had no patience whatsoever for organizing. Tony took off his dark glasses, and got the cat hutch before leaving the car. Pepper meowed impatient - the poor black cat had been locked in all the way over. And she did not enjoy it, at all.

"You shouldn’t make such a fuss. The new house will be big enough for you, me and JARVIS."  
_And all the ghosts I can’t let go of._

Coming to live at this house was an attempt to forget all the shit he'd been through in the last five years, one he intended to honor by not thinking about anything. At all. He steped through the threshold, which almost didn’t look like some old thing back from the 18th century - the renovation had paid off, it seemed. He put the hutch down and opened its door. Pepper – his only company ever since what had happened to the real, human Pepper – streched on the wood floor. She didn’t seem comfortable, but he should have guessed as much. 

Anyway, it was not like he planned to stay here for long. Or anywhere else, for that matter.


	2. Something wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, first chapter! Cute thing writting this one (unlike The 6th, its evil brother). Anyway, go on and enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: remastered, people! 3/23/15

It was the third day since he had moved in and things were almost ready. As for important tasks, Tony only had yet to install JARVIS, who he missed too much to let it lie. He sat on the - sintetic - leather couch, actually proud of what he had accomplished up to the moment, even though there was still much to do. The black cat sat right in front of him, dissapointment on her eyes and her tail waving around slowly.

"What?!" He asked, annoyed already.

Obviously she did not answer him. Because, bloody hell, he was talking to a cat. 

"Tony, look at your life, look at your choices..." He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair.

The billionaire got up eventually and went out to throw the remaining cardboxes away. Apparently that was what she wanted him to do, as when he came back she looked happy playing with a ball. Tony sat back on the couch, noticing the sky already dark outside. Pep laid down beside him, pawning his tight while he caressed her belly, making her purr. She had been the best thing he'd ever bought - the name might not have been his best idea, though. Naming your new cat after you dead friend was somewhat masochistic. But what could he really do about it? He still loved Virginia Pepper Potts. 

Tony sighed, letting his head fall back. It seamed escaping to this house was a failed idea, not that he hadn't predicted that. Breath Tony, breath. And try to get some sleep, he could almost hear Pepper say. 

"Fuck, Anthony."

His breathing became increasingly uneven each time he tried to take a deep breath. The heater was on as it was winter but, fucking Christ, he could barely breath. Tony removed his clothes on the way to his bedroom, feeling desperate and powerless. This was not long before he was laying naked on the bed, his breathing eventually coming back to normal. 

His anxiety crises had gotten worse in the past ten months. But it was all just fine...

He was too tired for this much thinking right now, anyway. 

 

\---

 

Two days later things didn't quite fit well yet. Tony sat once more naked on his bed, with a giant headache and sweating like crazy. He complained to nobody and asked JARVIS to turn off the heater - then it took him a while to realize he hadn't installed him yet. Fuck. The billionaire fell back to the bed, which for the look of things had only been used for two or three hours. Which meant it should be one in the afternoon. 

He was hungry as hell. Pepper should have brought some food already... Then it hit him again. There was no Pepper, there was never going to be. Why had he thought of her? Why did he keep attaching himself to those memories? He buried his face on the pillow, screaming in it to release some frustration, the taste of guilt renewed on his mouth. 

He was a freaking moron. 

It took him sometime - and a cat meowling on his ear - to get Tony back at function. He once again sat on the bed, looking at the black pet. She continued making noise until he got up. 

"Okay, I get it. You're hungry."

He turned off the heat and put on his underwear and a sweater before walking downstairs, Pep following him rather quickly for a cat. He really needed to get JARVIS going again. He decided to focus on this after he put the canned cat food in her bowl. She seamed slightely disgusted by it and sniffed before finally licking the soft cubes.

"What? Are you too good for this, Mrs. Potts?" He might be joking, but something in his tone of voice showed he was still hurt. 

Tony turned then to the coffee machine - he deserved some coffee at least. His cellphone began ringing, back on his bedroom, and he ran to answer it. Maybe something interesting had finally happened on his company. It turned out, though, only to be one girl he had fucked before moving out of New York, and not one he had ever wanted to see again. 

He had just hung up when he heard some strange sounds and Pep's rare hisses coming from downstairs. Almost as if there was someone there. The man ran to her, worried about what it may be, and was greeted with nothing. There was nobody in the room to be seen and, for what he could see, everything was in place. 

"Weird..."

 

\---

 

Nothing was ever simple to Tony Stark.

Installing JARVIS should have been fast and easy - after all, he had already done it once, even if that had been long ago. Pep was sleeping on the couch again as he walked around, making last minute adjustments. He hadn't eaten anything the whole day - as some kind of self imposed punishment (because living in a house in the middle of nowhere, with a cat named after your dead crush, was not enough). It was weird, thinking about her and Happy. And about Rhodey. Something inside him shattered everytime, but now, maybe, he was starting to feel numb.

 _"Sir, it's good to talk to you once again."_ The familiar sound of JARVIS' voice echoed through the living room. 

Pep jumped scared from the sound - as she had yet to meet their housemate, butler, whatever - which earned the billionaire's smirk. 

"Welcome back, honey. Now to the priorities - does this city have any sort of strip club or anything like that?"

_"I don't believe so, Sir"_

"Any restaurant that delivers food?"

_"A pizza delivery, though I'm afraid they won't be working now, Sir"_

"Why is that?"

_"It's three in the morning, Sir"_

Tony sighed and walked to the bedroom. He could sleep two more hours and then go to a dinner - at least _that_ this freaking town had to have - and grab something to eat. He undressed, letting clothes scattered across the floor, and entered the bathroom - everything white and clear as he turned on the lights. On the mirror right in front of him he could see all his scars: the ones from the bomb fragment were there (deepest and ugliest) and the most recent ones from the car crash. 

When had he become such a mess? A hot mess, indeed, but still a complete failure. Had it been when he was kidnapped? Or maybe when his best friend had died trying to save him? No, it had crushed him but he'd still had Pepper back then. Even when six months later she and Happy got engaged, it was still fine - If there was a guy in the world that deserved her, it was Happy. Tony had even paid for their honeymoon trip without a thought otherwise.

And that was the reason it was all his fault. Monaco. A formula 1 race. A bomberman. If only he hadn't pushed his gift so hard onto them. If only he had just admitted he was hurt... But now it was too late. 

He turned the shower on and got into the hot water. He needed a drink. A strong one. 

_"Sir, I believe there's an unidentified intruder in your guest room."_

"What?!"

He got out of the shower faster than advisable, wrapping a towel around his waist. Then proceeded, fuming, to run angrily towards said room. When he opened its door, there was a dark and tall figure standing in the middle of it. 

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" Tony asked.

The man looked distracted but, before Tony could understand anything, the intruder came towards him in a threatheing stance - which had him understandably scared. There was no escape. 

Right in the moment when he was going to be hit, though... The man vanished.

The recovery of breath and rational though took some instants, but happened nonetheless. " _What the actual fuck,_ man?! JARVIS, what the actual fuck? Am I high or something?"

_"I'm certain, Sir, that there was an intruder in the room 12.8 seconds ago"_

"I know, honey, I asked how in hell did he get away!"

_"This I do not know, Sir"_

"I need a drink, for fuck's sake." 

 

\---

 

He stumbled back home completely drunk. It was two in the afternoon and he was coming back from the dinner. The visit had being incredebly amusing - the owner of the place looked like he was a CIA agent, wearing a suit in the middle of the day. The billionaire retrieved his keys from his pocket, and tried for long four minutes to open the door - he didn't remember it being so fucking hard. He eventually gave up.

"JARVIS, open the door!"

The door was unlocked in less than a second and he stumbled in. Pepper was on top of the table, burning holes on his skull with her stare. The man just ignored her and turned on the tv, settling for a random lame game. He was not sure why he had been so willing to get drunk back at the dinner - maybe what had happened two days ago, the whole 'dude that vanished right in front of my eyes' thing, had been kind of scary. 

Was he begining to hallucinate? Only one week in this new house and he was already going mental? Couldn't he stand some loneliness?

He took off his boots and threw them away, almost hitting the black cat, though he was too drunk to care. After that he continued getting rid og things. His coat was left beside him in the couch and the scarf joined it not long after, his feet now resting on the coffe table. Making coments about the game out loud, the words sounded a bit messy and he might be having some trouble forming the sentences. 

The match ended and he didn't even know who was playing. 

He looked at Pep, who still looked hurt after the unintended aggression. 

"Come on, Pep. Don't make such a fuss about it."

She completely ignored him and went to the kitchen. He rolled his eyes, now just hanging there without even moving. After a while in silence, though, there were soft thuds upstairs.

"Do we have company, Jarv?"

_"I don't believe so, Sir, but unidentified sounds come from you bedroom."_

Tony got up and went there, tripping on his own feet and almost breaking the decoration near the stairs in the process. He was sure it had to be the guy from last time and now he would find out who it was. I did not matter he was so drunk he could barely walk without getting hurt - Tony wanted answers, and nobody had ever accused him of being cautious before.

He entered his bedroom, and surprise! It was just like it had been before he left. 

"JARVIS, are you trolling me?"

_"No, Sir, the noises came from your room. Let me do a scaning to see if I find anything quantifiably odd."_

The man stood there, waiting for the results as Jay scanned the room. Finally, the system announced:

_"Sir, there seems to a dogtag on your nightstand. And I'm pretty sure you did not serve in the army, nor was it there before."_

Now that he paid attention to said spot, indeed there it was, between his sunglasses and his watch, and it deffinitely did not belong there. Upon close inspection, it looked like it had seen better times - damaged, but still somewhat new. He read the name and the info, pretty sure this belonged to whoever was the fucker that had scared the shit out of him.

 _'Steve Carter'_ it said, plus some numbers that a drunk Tony could not be bothered to understand at the moment.

"Got ya!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope you liked it and stick with us for the next. Feel free to ask any questions and to give any advises :)  
> Lots of love, see ya


	3. The man who knew too much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, I dont want this! (that's me, not the chapter). OR, who is the motherfucker who knows too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yo! I'm dying here and Clara is not even highly functional right now (roleplaying Destiel was too much for our fragile minds). So, there are probably tons of typos here, but we'll correct them tomorrow. Sorry...
> 
> Anyway, go on and enjoy it! Things are finally moving along!
> 
> Au revoir, Jana.
> 
> EDIT: remastered, folks! 24/03/2015
> 
> Edit: Sorry for the delay, but here is the revised chapter

Tony got out of his car, dog tag in his jacket’s pocket and Pep on his arms. The cat had jumped on the back sit of the car and did not move when he tried to get her out, so the solution was to carry her along. 

He was going to the library and try to find some kind of record about this Steve Carter - who was strangely missing from digital records. Before he even entered the building, though, Tony noticed something odd - there was a firefighter car just leaving. The man cursed under his breath as he walked jogged the building, where a small crowd was gathered. 

“What happened here?” Tony asked a boy, a bit inpatient, already frustraded in anticipation.

“The city records section caught fire.” The kid answered, looking bored. 

“Fuck.” The man ended up cursing once more. He raised Pep to his eye level and looked deep into hers, really upset. “It’s all your fault, Pepper.”

The black cat only blinked, looking unimpressed as always. 

“You’re new in town.” The boy said and Tony finally gave him a second glance, now noticing the potato gun strapped to his waist. These folks from small towns were always weird. 

“Yeah. Now tell me, kiddo, how can I get my eyes on the records now?”

“You can’t. The librarian said they lost everything.”

This was definitely not a lucky day for Tony. He went back to his car, not hiding his anger, where JARVIS said the town’s records had indeed never been digitalized. And that he couldn’t find this 'Steve Carter' in any records of the Army, Navy or Aeronautic. This had been the main reason why Tony had made the trip from his house to the city - to search for fucking outdated paper files. Which, for what it seemed, had been useless.

“Hey mister, wait! You could try talking to Deputy Fury. He’s an old dude, so he must know something.”

Tony turned back towards the boy, who had a cheeky smile on his face, likely trying to impress him. Well, if this Fury guy could tell him something, it was worth the shot. 

“Where is the police station, boy?”

“Turn left in the next block.” The man nodded and headed on foot to the indicated direction. 

As Pep was behaving (almost too well for a cat, not that he was complaining), he caressed her fur - making most people give him a weird look. What was their problem? Yes, he was new in town. Yes, he wore expensive clothes. And yes, he was carrying a black cat in his arms. That did not mean he was a freak to be stared at.

Tony could eventually see the police station, where he went in, his sunglasses still on and his best playboy attitude wrapped around him like armor. 

The place was pretty average – just like everything around there – with only four officers that he could see. 

The one closer to the entrance was a woman - red-haired and beautiful. If Tony got the chance he’d definitely bang her. Although, something in the way she looked at him was fucking scary. Beside her, drinking coffee, there was a male officer with pale blue eyes and an almost too serious look. Couldn’t the people in this town fucking smile?

The other officer was younger, and too busy playing something on the pc to give a fuck about Tony. And last but not least, there was who the billionaire believed to be the Fury dude. He was a black guy and wore an eye patch. His glare to Tony made him feel like a fifteen year old that had just done some serious shit right in front of the principal.

“Who the heck are you?” The man asked, not even trying to pretend he could be polite - it was pretty obvious he did not give a fuck.

“Well, I’m Anthony Stark. I just moved to the old white house outside town.” The billionaire answered, with all the cheekness he could. Deputy Fury didn't seem to care much for it, so Tony decided it was better if he kept going. “I’ve only been there for like, a week. And some dude just broke into my guest room. Then yesterday afternoon I found these dog tags on my nightstand.” He threw said items on the table, maybe a bit too harshly.

Fury only picked them up, seemingly uninterested, until he saw what was written there. Then his eyes – better saying, eye – grew wide. 

“If you are playing some kind of silly trick on me, Mr. Stark, I swear I’ll lock you up.” He said and the other man did not have any idea why on the seven hells had he reacted like that. 

“Uhh… Chill dude. I found these and I was hoping someone could fucking tell me who is this guy. Because he is probably the one that broke into my house.” 

“I don’t think he is. Unless ghost can do this kind of stuff.” 

That caught Tony off guard. Was this Steve Carter really dead? But then, if he was, who the fuck had breached his security? He ended up sighing and letting himself sprawl on the chair. 

“What?.. But…How then?" Were his words, not even looking to the deputy in front of him. 

“Romanov, you and Barton take care of the station.” Fury was now talking to the two officers at the front. “And you there, Stark innit? Come with me. We are going on a walk.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes. What was the problem these people had with staying where they were? It was perfectly warm and comfortable there, but no, they had to go for a walk to make things more dramatic. He got up eventually and followed Fury anyway, though. They went together down the street, most people on the way glancing at them as if afraid of Fury - well, he could not blame them. 

“This man you’ve been looking for, he's been dead for sixty-three years. He was a captain in WW II, came to live here after the war in the same house you’re living right now. Until, back in the day, he just disappeared. The police found blood on the living room floor, but never a body.”

Pep meowed in the man’s arms as if sad and it almost looked like she understood what had been said. 

“I did not know about that.” Tony said, not knowing what else he could say on the matter. 

“Not many people know this happened.” The black man replied, voice tight.

Then the awkward silence was there. Neither man knew each other well enough to continue talking. After some time he realized the way they were heading was the path to Coulson’s Dinner. When they arrived there the place was full, as it was lunch time already and this dinner was probably the only in town. When they stepped in, everyone seemed to become quieter and behave their best. It almost felt like the freaking president had come into the place.

“I suppose you are important.”

“Yes. I’m really fucking important, you motherfucker. And now we are having lunch.” He said, walking confidently towards what seemed, therefore, to be his usual table. “And you are paying for it, since you are the one wasting my time.”

 

-o-o-o-o

 

It was late on the afternoon. 

Tony was sitting on the same formica table for the last few hours, Pep sleeping on his lap. He'd remained at the diner with Fury some time after lunch, not very eager to go back to a house where a murder had probably taken place. So he'd stayed there, looking at some cold case files Clint Barton - the coffee drinking officer - got for him him, as Fury did not mind letting him have a look at them. ‘It’s not like you'll find anything they haven’t,' he'd said. And for the looks of things he was right. 

“Fuck, Pep. It is a dead end.” He closed the case file roughly, but the cat didn’t even stir. 

Tony looked around, the place empty around him. Only he, the cat and the owner were there. The man, Phil Coulson, actually sat on the chair in front of him then, two cups of hot coffee on his hands and a gentle smile on his face. 

“Well, what have you been working on?” It was clear he was just trying to be nice, and Tony didn’t really mind having some company. “I made coffee. Do you want some?” Phil offered, all calm and polite. 

“It smells great, Agent.” The billionaire sipped the beverage and it tasted good - not much of a surprise there, the guy probably earned his life making food and pretending he did not hear the nickname Tony had just given him. Then, the older man picked up the files and began reading. At this exact moment his eyes grew wide, like he had seen a ghost or worse.

Tony got a bit worried– Who was he trying to kid? He wasn’t worried, he was curious. “What is it?”

“Are you researching Steve Carter?” He was trying to hide his excitement, but it was clear in his voice and in the shine of his eyes.

“Yeah…Why?” 

And he began talking, and Tony almost regretted asking the question. 

“You might be too young to know this, but back in Word War II there was this soldier the government used in propaganda. Noy just an actor, he was an actual soldier, saved my dad once. And well, he was always my idea of a perfect soldier. But after the war he just disappeared and nobody knew who he really was. Some soldiers sat his name was Carter. It's the theory most accepted by fans, including me. There is even a photo of him - supposedly - where we can read S. Carter on his tag. This was why I chose to move to this town after I finished college, really.”

And from there on Coulson moved on tho theories and secret projects and whatnot _For Christ’s sake, won’t you shut the fuck up?_ was all the billionaire could think while the other spoke. But it was relevant, he might be able to throw some light in the whole thing. Well, if he didn’t get Tony to sleep first, which was only avoided by Pep inability to not scratch him every other minute. The agent probably continued talking for about twenty minutes, never ending gibberish. In the end, all Tony could say was “You have a complete fan crush on him,” in a not so interested voice.

Coulson blushed and got up. “I'll show you one of my collectible cards. You can keep it if you promise updating me on your investigation.”

“Alright.” Tony just looked at Pep while the man went to retrieve said cards. The cat actually rolled her eyes and sighed, looking disappointed in him.

Coulson came back and gave him the card. It was old but the layer of plastic around it made it look like brand new. The drawing on one side was of a soldier in a ridiculous blue, red and white costume – because that was what it was, not an uniform. Coulson would have to forgive him, the guy looked like one of those stupid comic book heroes. And on the back there was a bunch of info. It couldn’t harm, especially if Steve was this Captain America dude. 

“Thanks, Agent. I think I’ll get going right now, before it gets even colder.” The younger got up, lifting the black cat in his arms and shaking Phil’s hand before leaving to the chill winter afternoon.

It was only when he got outside that he remembered. 

“Oh fuck, Pep. The car is at the damn library.”

 

-o-o-o-o

 

He was sitting at the veranda, a bottle of whisky on his hands and nothing to do but think. It had been two days since he discovered the death of the Captain. Tony had JARVIS look through the house records and found Steve _Rogers_ , age 25, had moved to the house in November 18th,1946. He was reported missing in June 26, 1947. The house had been a heritage from his uncle, an old man who had died falling down the stairs. Why the name change, though... He just couldn't figure out where it fit.

_"Sir, why don't you try exploring the property? It will be good for you to go on a walk."_

He didn't feel like objecting, so tedious the day was. Pep had just gone to sleep on his bed, having completly ignored him when he tried to play with her earlier. The billionaire got up a bit dizzy, but not drunk - he had only downed half of the bottle, in five minutes. Tony began walking out of the house, his steps off centered, not really knowing where the fuck he was going, just following some sort of path beaten on the ground.

It was kind of creepy, the woods around him with no clear designed way to follow besides the one for the car and the one Tony was using. He had not wanted to explore the whole land when he bought it - as long as it was isolated and big enough, it could even have a freaking cemetery on the back and he wouldn't care. 

"Yeah, Tony, see the AI you created. _Walk around the place in the fucking winter_." He mumbled to himself, complaining like an old grumpy man.

He kept going for about ten minutes - the path did not go on a straight line and its turns were somewhat confusing. Then, suddenly, he found a freaking lake! It was big enough for someone to swin there and seemed deep enough for someone to drown. He crouched near the border and touched the cold water. On his reflection, the goatee had become a beard - he would need to shave it again. Tony was looking the image of the drunk problematic (and crazy) writer from a small town. The kind of freak the kids would knock at the door then run away from.

"You look great, Tony. And dude, you need to stop talking to yourself, it's getting depressing." He flicked the water and continued his walk. 

There was nothing more to see, and eventually the way led him to the back of the house and he noticed something he hadn't before. 

Eight headstones. 

That gave him chills down he spine. He had been kidding about the cemetery stuff. Damn karma. The 'playboy' walked towards the headstones and kneeled to look at them closer. All of them had photographs - probably a wealthy family then.

The first one to the left belonged to a woman, a small portrait showed a sad and fragile looking girl. _Sybelle Borson - 03/12/1849 - 11/06/1873 - May you now rest in peace among the angels_ , written in golden letters. The woman of the house back in the 19th century, probably a shitty life.

The second one was of a boy, with a long face and a blanck look. He reminded Tony of one of those nerds everyone made fun of. _Stephen Borson - 09/07/1864 - 10/12/1878 - May you ride your horses in heaven._ That sounded odd, but probably had a motivation, maybe the boy just really liked to ride.

The third one was a greenish headstone, the small portrait of a mischievous looking boy. He was grinning to the picture, reminding Stark of himself - which was kind of sad. _Jory Borson - 07/19/1865 - 10/13/1878 - The tears we shed for you will never erase the laughter you brought._ One death right after the other, what a sad thing.

The following headstone was black with silver letters. This boy was probably the bad boy - his hair was messy, his smile wolf-like and he looked older than the one before him. _"Frederick Borson - 08/22/1866 - 10/13/1878 - You deserved a chance to be the hero you wanted to be"._ Another dead in the thirteenth, must have been a depressing time for the family.

Then, there was a girl. Her headstone had small engraved flowers and delicate letters. Her portrait showed an adorable girl with dark hair. She looked like her mother. _Hellena Borson - 11/02/1868 - 10/13/1878 - A beautiful flower, cut before blossoming._ She sounded to be daddy's little girl. And what the hell had happened in that October 13th?

The next had a picture of a boy, confused looking and young with, the same wolf-like look of the one named Frederick. _Nathan Borson - 03/15/1870 - 10/13/1878 - God took your gentle soul too soon from us._ He was not even surprised by the date of death anymore. But they were so young, he had to look into what tragedy had taken place that day.

The last one broke his heart even more. The kid in the picture was so young and had the same sad look from his mother. _Victor Borson - 10/06/1872 - 10/13/1878 - Way too young to die._ He had to agree, the boy was indeed away too young.

The last marble headstone was black and creepier than all the rest, the man in the portrait owner of an unconventional beauty. Tony touched the portrait to clean the dust. _Loki Borson - 04/08/1847 - 10/31/1880 - Always misjudged for being different, but your soul was good._

The father had out lived all his kids, even if not for much. That must have been incredibly devastating. He needed to investigate what all this was about. This house had a fuckton of bad history for what it seemed. Tony got up feeling a bit less depressed about his own life, or a bit more, he wasn't so sure. He got back to the house, entering throught the back door. 

_"How was the walk Sir?"_ JARVIS asked, smooth as ever.

"Well, did you know we had a lake and a family buried in the backyard?"

If such a thing was possible, the system sounded surprised. _"I was not aware of this fact, Sir."_

"Do some research on the Borson family, especially anything relative to the October 13, 1878."

Then Tony went to eat the pizza he had ordered the previous night. He put a slice on the oven and went looking for Pep. The cat was on the hallway floor, playing with a ball he was quite sure he hadn't bought. 

"Where did you get this?" He said, caressing her fur. 

Of course she did not answer him. He petted her head and took the ball. It was a dog ball, yellow and worn out. He frowned and looked at her even more confused. The black cat only turned her back to him and walked away towards their room. 

He snorted softly and headed for the kitchen. He took some soda from the fridge, as he didn't feel like drinking more whisky. All those things he had found out about the house... After five minutes or so he retrieved the pizza and devoured it, he'd not realized how hungry he was until now. JARVIS was still looking for what he had asked and there was nothing worthwhile on TV. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I guess it's time for me to clean the fucking attic."

He got up, putting the dishes on the sink. "JARVIS, call me in two hours."

_"Understood, Sir."_

He streched his arms and walked out of the kitchen. Strangely, a cold sensation took over him for a moment, like he was passing through jelly or something.

And then he was in a living room that surely wasn't his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kissus, sorry for the mistakes (which will be corrected later). Hope you liked it and keep going :)  
> Kissus!
> 
> Edit: so many kissus at once, oh gods. anyway, sorry once again. have a one-shot of the series as my sincere apologies


	4. Mistery Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the time travel finally happens!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: It's so fun reading past us, like, really  
> 3/25/15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people!
> 
> Today is Clara speaking to you guys!
> 
> So, in this chapter things are starting to work out (slowly... But what can I do? *hears Jana saying from the left* "Write, bitch, write")
> 
> I must thank every single one of you guys that left comments, kudos and bookmarked us! 
> 
> Hope you guys get the references, we have a bunch whole lot of them in this one...

Bruce sat on the office floor, eating a sandwich and drinking orange juice. 

The house was too silent without Steve there, only him and the beagle there, both worried if Rogers was going to return. He had gone to visit the graves of Peggy and Bucky, back in NY and was supposed to come back in two days. However, even if the captain called every night ans assured he was alright, Bruce was not sure if he was ready for all the memories this visit might trigger. He couldn't just order Steve not to go, thogh. Banner may be his psychologist and only friend (even though such title was not deserved, after all he’d done), but he could not run over Steve's wishes. Not anymore.

“Come here, Bucky.” He called the dog, who was resting on the living room rug. The pet came with a sleepy walk and sat next to the man. “You want some ham, boy?” The dog kind of nodded as his tail waved in happiness, promptly taking the offered meat, happy and excited as always.

Bruce smiled and patted his back. It was relaxing to stay like this, away from all the memories New York, Texas and Italy brought to him. The doctor closed his eyes and let out a heavi sigh. Why had he thought about this? Thinking of it only made him remember things he wanted locked away. He was distracted when, suddenly, Bucky began barking and ran towards the kitchen. He got up and followed the dog, worried about what could have caught his attention. 

“What is it, Buck?”

Then, out of the blue, a man appeared in the living room - like he had come from the kitchen, even if the doctor was pretty sure he wasn't there before. Bruce's reflexes urged him to take his handgun, but he had no such thing anymore, so it was all in vain. They stared in silence at each other for a while. The stranger had a beard, wore a t-shirt with a weird stamp on it, ripped jeans and had his feet bare. He was probably a rebel, a deserter, one of these mad homeless veterans, which got Bruce tense. Who could this be? How had he found this house? It was far from the rest of town. “Who are you?” He asked, his own voice sounding too calm for the situation.

The intruder did not move, looking confused at the beagle who was still roaring at him. “I’m Tony Stark…” He answered, sounding like he was equally suspicious. 

“Stark?” The name got Bruce’s attention. “Are you related to Howard?” He had to admit they looked alike, even if this man was probably a couple of decades older than the genius engineer he had met during the war. 

“I’m his son.” 

“You can’t be his son.” It was Bruce's answer right away. This guy surely could not be Howard’s son. “Howard is only twenty three.” 

That caught the man off guard, but at least Bruce could see he was not lying - at least not intentionally. He had learned to identify signals of lies, and there was no such thing in this stranger. However, through his work years, the doctor had seen all kinds of hallucinations. It could be the case of this man, some form of psychological trauma. 

“No... Wait- What year is this?” He finally moved, stuffing his hands on his pockets, looking around - as if he was trying to extract some explanation from their surroundings, every movement tense. Bruce was confused too, none of them seemed to know what was going on. 

The doctor finally sighed before answering. “1947”. The other man – Tony, Bruce would call him Tony, at least this part should be the truth - swore something under his breath and tried walking back to the kitchen. Whatever it was he was trying to do, it failed.  
“Can you please explain why you're here?” The man might be a bit crazy, but he didn’t seem dangerous.

Tony’s answer was an exasperate sigh, “You will think me mad if I tell you.” Before saying another thing he tried walking back to the living room. And there was something that scared the living soul out of Bruce. The man disappeared. The dog began barking again as Bruce walked into the kitchen. From this side he could see a faint blue mist near the floor. Then he tried walking back to the living room. 

A cold sensation seeped into his bones and he closed his eyes.

“Well, for the looks of things it works only in one of the sides…” He could hear Tony say, still too stunned to respond.

“Sir, there is a man right behind you.” A mechanical voice, the doctor wasn’t sure where it came from, said. 

In that moment he opened his eyes, only to find himself somewhere he had never been to before. The place was clear and sort of… empty. Tony was looking to him, a smirk of irony in place. “Now, I think I may ask who you are.”

Bruce was even more confused. Where was him? This was not his friend’s house. “Doctor Bruce Banner PhD.” He ended up saying, more like a reflex than something intentional. 

“You know the drill, JARVIS.” The man exclaimed to seemingly no one and sprawled on his couch. Or at least the doctor believed that to be his house - it was all so alien. “Sit down, Bruce. Welcome to 2010.”

He had to be hallucinating, or dreaming at least. 

There was no way that he – Bruce Banner – had travelled through time. The doctor sat on the couch, feeling weird and confused. He pinched himself just to make sure he was not asleep. This was too fictional for him. He needed to stay calm, he needed to have control. He could not let the other guy take place now. Not in this ambient. “So…” Tony said looking at him, enthusiasm clear on his face. 

“You’re away too happy with this, but considering your previous reaction back at Steve’s house, I suppose you were not planning any of this.” The doctor said, letting his elbows rest on his knees and his back bow a bit. This was so surreal, for God’s sake. 

“I don’t have any idea of how this happened. Actually, I didn't know something like this could actually happen.” He was being truthful or, if he was a liar, he deserved the credit of being the best Bruce had met his whole life. And that considering he'd talked with some of the better positioned politicians of his time.

“Neither did I.” For some moments those words rang in the silence, until the strange voice came forth once more.

 _“Sir, I've gathered the avaiable info about this gentleman.”_ Bruce looked around looking for its source, and the other man patted his shoulder.

“The one talking is JARVIS, an artificial intelligence I created. He does anything I ask him to.” But that only made Bruce feel more confused. What was all this? He must have looked trult bewildered, because that voice – artificial intelligence, whatever that meant – spoke again.

_“Doctor Banner, you can think of me as Mister Stark’s butler. The only difference being the fact I have no body, or emotions. And I’m far more efficient.”_

“Stop bragging, honey, and tell me about our good doctor here.”

Bruce wanted to be bothered by Stark's actions – talking about him like he wasn’t even there was at least impolite - but he did it all in such a natural way the doctor couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. He couldn't help but to be comfortable around the other man, actually, for whatever reason.

 _“Well Sir, the records say Bruce Robert Banner was born on September 12th, 1918. He was the only son of Danielle Judith Banner and Stan Banner. His parents died in 1924, the circumstances are unclear, though she had pressed several charges reporting he made threats against her life. Then, Doctor Banner lived with his aunt – a widow, named Sally Barton. There is no relevant information about the rest of his childhood and his teen years. He entered the Medicine and Psychiatry College at the surprising age of sixteen, and graduated at twenty - I have to compliment you for achieving such remarkable results, Mr. Banner. He then married a colleague named Betty Ross. They went off the official radars from 1940 to 1943, when she filled the papers for a divorce and re-married two years afterwards, with a Canadian man named James Logan Howett. Dr. Banner only appears again in official records in 1946, as the psychologist of several war veterans, amongst which there was Steve Rogers. They seem to be friends, since Banner bought an apartment in town right after the captain moved here. He was reported missing in June 26th, 1947, along with Rogers. Both presumed dead.”_

It was weird to hear a stranger talking about your life like them knew you. Tony, next to him, heard carefully and smirked, like he had found out something interesting among what the voice had said. "So, Doctor Banner, do you know our good friend, the captain?"

His interest in Steve concerned the doctor a bit. Okay, considering that he was in 2010 Tony could indeed be Howard's son, but if he was really the enginneer's son how come he didn't know anything about the Super Soldier Project? "Of couse I know Rogers."

"Then what happened to him?"

"Why should I tell you?" 

"Someone's being sassy." 

Bruce smirked at him. "I know nothing about you, why should I trust you with info on my friend?"

That seemed to annoy the other man, which made the doctor kind of proud of himself. Tony waited a few moments before relenting. "Okay, JARVIS, a basic research on me to help the doctor."

_"Of course, Sir."_

Tony crossed his legs and both waited. A black cat entered the living room and looked at Bruce as if scared. "Calm down, Pep. This is Bruce, he used to live here. Bruce, this is Pepper, she is the lady of the house." The psychiatrist had to smile and offered his hand for the pet to sniff. It was an adorable cat, but when she sniffed his hand he could almost see the despleasure in her face - probably because of Bucky's cent. Both men smiled when she laid in the armchair, tension momentarily on hold. 

_"Anthony Edward Stark, born on August 16th, 1974. Son of Howard Anton Stark and Maria Rachel Stark. Studied in the St. John's Academy for boys during his entire childhood and teenage years. Was a prodigee student, having built robots and created me during his teens. When he left the school, he went to college in MIT, where he became a known "playboy" and appeared several times in the tabloits. After college, he assumed a position as one of the executive directors of the Stark Industries. Howard and Maria died in 1999, in a car crash in Atlanta. Then, Tony became CEO of the industries. In 2008, he was kidnapped by a extremist group in Afeganisthan. The rescue mission was succeful, with a few casualties on both sides. - including General James Rhodes, a friend of Mister Stark. After that, in April, 2009, he had a car crash on the highway outside of NY. On the same day, his personal assistent and his chief of security died in a terrorist attack in Monaco. After that, he chose to move to this house."_

It was a fairly eventful life story, he deffinitely wasn't expecting something like this. And Howard was dead, had been for the last eleven years. 

"Satisfied now?"

"For now. I'm interested in how you reacted to all of this, but this can wait." He was a psychiatrist, of course that interested him, but there were more important matters at the moment. This whole time travel thing, for instance. Come on, he had travelled through time! He was excited, even if he did not show it on his face.

They stood quiet, tension crumbling under the weight of escitment, smiles trying to appear on their faces. Eventually they gave up on hiding it.

"We travelled through time!" Tony exclaimed finally, suddenly standing with his hands on Bruce's shoulders and talking a mile a minute. "We just, by chance, got to do what every scientist through ages tried! I just _need_ to understand how this works, are you with me on this, pal?"

"I agree with you. But first I think we should try going back to my time, you know, just to be sure."

"Fair enough."

Both got up as Anthony ordered JARVIS - whatever that thing was - to keep an eye on the house and call the police if anyone showed up. Now going to the kitchen, Bruce noticed there was no blue mist near the floor this time. Maybe a particularity of this time? Then he tried walking back to the living room, but this time there was no cold sensation either.  
And instead of seeing Steve's living room he continued seeing Tony's.

"Anthony, I think we have a problem."

"Yeah, I think we do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading.
> 
> Now, I must go and write chapter nine. 
> 
> Geronimo!
> 
> *puf*
> 
> Please fell free to make comments, suggestions, questions and point out mistakes.


	5. Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So again,  
> It's me Clara!  
> Since Jana choose to ignore me on tumblr and on Facebook, I'm here alone *cries /onlynot*  
> Hope you guys like this Chapther, and I don't really have much to say.  
> Only I must contain my plot bunnies and go write chapther 10
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: 3/28/15 revised

Bruce and Tony were sitting in the hallway of the second floor, faces tired and feet bare, and their shoes having been left behind sometime during their search for the portal. Which had been utterly useless, by the way. Bruce was stuck in 2010, maybe for a few hours or for the rest of his life. He was not really worried for the time being, though dumb as it may have sounded, all he could think was that there wouldn't be enough food for Bucky to stay alone until Steve came back from NY. He sighed, trying not show all his concerns. 

"I think I owe you at least a decent dinner." The younger man - was it right to call him that? Tony was older physically, but he had been born before - said, staring at the ceiling.

"You sure do." Bruce smiled, a bit bitter still. 

Pep sat on his legs - she had been just ignoring his scent since a couple of hours back. And that was as good a distraction from all that shit going on as any. 

"You're a traitor, Mrs. Potts. Getting together with the good doctor to win the war."

"What are you talking about Tony?" Bruce glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. 

Tony laughed. "Your face is great, Bruce." Now he was really beginning to suspect Stark had been drinking while he wasn't looking. 

_"Sir, the Chinese food you asked for has arrived."_ JARVIS - Bruce was still getting used to the weird voice coming from anyplace at any time - said right before the doorbell rang. 

"Chinese food?" He asked, once more confused - how did one ask for this kind of food so easily? Weren't they supposed to, like, go to a restaurant at least? 

"Yeah, chop suey... Spring rolls... Never had those?" Tony seemed surprised.

_"Sir, I don't believe they had this kind of delivery system back in Dr. Banner's time. Also, the Chinese culture wasn't so spread throughout the world."_

"Oh, you see big guy, we kind of worship the Chinese culture nowadays." Tony's face was all seriousness, the way he said it on other hand made obvious that he was over reacting.

Now smiling to himself, the man got up and went downstairs, whistling a song Bruce did not know - probably something from 'nowadays'. Banner closed his eyes, caressing Pepper's fur. The cat sounded pleased with that, judging by the incessant purring.

He should be more freaked out about this situation, the other guy should have already taken control of his body by now, but something, maybe the away Tony talked or the way he treated Bruce - like they had known each other since always - made so that he didn't feel threatened by anything in this weird century. The house was still pretty much the same from back at his time (only the office wasn't there anymore and the decoration was 'clean' - this had been the word Tony used), so was the language (apart from slangs) and customs - all of those helping him to keep his mind in control. 

"Come over here, Bruce! You will try some typical cuisine from this USA." Tony called from downstairs. 

"I'm coming, Stark!" He lifted Pepper on his arms and got up. She complained noisily and he ended up smiling while walking down the not-anymore-creaking wooden steps. "You're really fussy, you know that, Mrs. Potts?" She frowned in that cat way of hers, and his grin widenned. He wasn’t much of a cat person, but she was nice.

He entered the dinning room to find the owner of this house sitting with a glass of wine in his hand and two paper boxes that smelled amazingly well sitting in front of him. He put the cat on the floor and took the two offered chopsticks, taking a momento to try and assimilate. "What do you want me to do with it?"

"Eat." 

Bruce sat on one of the chairs and stared at the food. It was some kind of noddle with vegetables and what was apparently meat. It looked good, even if weird. He tried to figure out how the sticks worked, without much success. Tony was trying to control his laughter, but it was hard - really hard, but not impossible. As for Bruce, his only thought was how on Earth could they do this?

"Tony, can you get me some decent silverware?" 

The billionaire got up and went to the kitchen, sniggering at Bruce's attempt, then came back and delivered him fork and knife. "Here you go, big guy."

Tony resumed eating without any problem, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Banner followed soon, and God was that good! How could something this world be this delicious? He smiled between bites. "This is not bad at all."

"You better get used to this kind of food, 'cause I don't cook, my dear." Tony replied, taking another sip of the wine on his cup. 

"I hope I don't have to stay here long. At least Rogers could cook." Bruce said, whilst going to the kitchen for some beer - he deserved this much.

"I would never guess that a Captain from the army was the kind of guy to cook." It's not like the attempt was subtle, Stark was trying to get information. He was underestimating Banner so much it was almost offensive, actually. Well, two could play that game.

"And I would never imagine Howard's son being so carefree." There was no immediate reply to his comment. The doctor smiled, pleased with his achievement, drinking while coming back to the table.

"Neither would my old man." There was bitterness in Tony's tone of voice, for the look of things talking about Howard was something this man didn't like. 

Bruce continued eating for a while, and now the not so pleasant sound of silence filled the dining room. He wondered if he might have stepped too far on his reply. When they finished the meal and Tony went to the kitchen, Bruce let himself relax on the chair, and commented, as if to apologize, "Yeah, your dad was a jerk sometimes."

-o-o-o-o

It was now late, and only Tony was awake.

He was sitting in the couch, the third bottle of whisky since his arrival on his hands. He didn't want to go to bed right now, actually he did not want to go to sleep ever again. Looking around, dizziness made the room unfamiliar.

"Pepper... Why did my idiot, stupid and egoist asshole of a dad never tell me anything about those guys?"

He was talking to himself again, not even the freaking cat was there as an excuse. The lights where out and there was no sound around. Something ordinary for anyone, but that in the middle of the night, in this creepy house, was terrifying. 

There was nothing to be done - no one to call, nowhere to go to - if something bad happened. 

_"Sir, I'm sorry to inform you, but there is an intruder in the house."_

Fuck, wasn't that just his cursed luck. Tony got up, dropping the bottle to the wood floor and stepping over the little shards of glass as his eyes met the same shadowy figure that had entered his house before. There was a cruel smirk on its lips and a long shinning knife on its hands that gave him chills. The stranger's intent was more than obvious and, almost panicking, Stark immediately began to cauculate a way out.

The intruder ran towards him, but Tony dogged jumping the couch, actually making the thing turn over, and continued running, no clear path on his mind yet.

Bruce, he needed to get to Bruce. 

Said man was sleeping in the guest room, so Tony had to climb up the stairs. Hurriedly barging in, the fact that Banner seemed to be talking to himself barely registered. 

 

-o-o-o-o-

_He was there, locked inside, no control what so ever of what his body was doing. He could hear his voice ordering them to ignore the pleading, feel his lips curl appreciatively. The other voice was piercing through his jail, and through his heart, and through his mind._

"Please, Bruce. Make it stop! I can't handle this. Please, Bruc-"

Steve's voice was there, he could see the profound desperation in his blue eyes. And it was entirely his fault. 

Then, a door was opened and closed so forcefully he was dragged out of his uneasy slumber. Banner sat at once on the bed, tense, only to see Tony locking the door, heavily breathing and seeming terrified. 

"What the hell?" Bruce asked while getting to his feet.

"There is a fucking dude-!" He shouted as behind him the door began to shake, as if someone was trying to break in.

"What?!" Once again he truly wanted a fucking handgun. 

"I was like- Drinking some whisky downstairs and JARVIS warned me there was an intruder and before I could do anything this freaking dude was trying to attack me so I ran like a motherfucker and got inside here."

"Damn it." He cursed softly walking around the room. It was too much information for him to process, but he had to. "What will we do?"

"You expect me to know?!" Tony shouted, still holding the door that rattled for a moment and then omniously stopped. 

They looked around, trying frantically to find a way out. After a moment, both of them looked at the window. "Well, we should get down."

"You can't possibly mean it." He looked astonished as Tony took the sheets from the bed and made them in maybe-stable knots. Then, still dead serious, Tony tied the sheets to the windowsill and pulled to see if it would handle their weight. Then he moved a dresser to block the door, whispered "come, Bruce" and began climbing down the sheets. Bruce looked down the window and decided he should follow, specially as the door rattled once more. He didn't want to be there when it broke down.

"It's a fucking terrible idea." He muttered between his teeth as he was climbing down.

And he ended up falling halfway through it, right into a patch of grass. He wasn't high enough to break anything, but his ankle hurt like hell, maybe twisted, and Tony had to help him run. They got into the woods through the faded path, but soon left it to hide between bushes - which would be ridiculous if they weren't truly desperate. None of them spoke a word, they barely moved from where they stood, only trying to slow their breathing.

"Pep- She is there, with him-" Tony whispered, barely able to keep his voice down. _God! Why is the freaking cat so important?!_ Bruce wanted to ask him, but it would be useless right now. It was more than obvious that the other man, even through this rush of adrenaline, was drunk - he knew drunk people didn't necessarily make sense. 

He just kept breathing and listening to the sounds of the woods. No one could guarantee the intruder wouldn't find them here, it was not a safe place. But for the next ten minutes or so he did not hear anything. Then, when he was going to propose to Tony for them to try moving-

The characteristic sound of cracking leaves was heard. 

Both of them froze, their breathing going uneasy again. Their muscles tensed, ready to run if they must. Tony took a branch from the ground, ready to fight, even if a drunken man with a faible piece of wood would easily lose for a man with a knife. The sound was approaching slowly and then, suddenly, from behind the bushes-

"Meow" 

All at the same moment Tony swung at the air, almost hitting Bruce in the face, both yelped like twelve year-olds and it took a good moment for them to process it was only Pepper, staring at the two with her well-known - even for Bruce who had been there for less than a day - gaze of disapproval. Tony caught her in his arms, much calmer now. 

“Pep, you scared the fuck out of me, you mean girl.” He spoke softly to her, not sounding annoyed at all.

But there was no time for this, none of them had to look towards the house to know the intruder had listened. Both men got up, running the best they could through the trees. Which, when one of them is drunk and the other injured, was not something really easy. They kept going, though, the adrenaline rush doing wonders.

It took a longer while than needed but they found the road that lead to town, and continued walking ahead. Anything would be better than going back to the house. Even if the asphalt hurt their feet enough for them to bleed, and even if it was growing colder each moment they spent out there. They needed to get to town, would find help there.

It took almost half an hour for the lights of the first building on this side of the road to appear - big yellow lights forming the word 'Motel'. Tony sighed in satisfaction when he read those, almost falling to the ground with Pepper in his arms, even though he wasn't really drunk anymore. 

"Stark, do you mind giving me a hand?" The doctor asked - his left ankle was hurting ten times more right now and he was having a really hard time walking. Tony let Bruce pass an arm around his shoulder and held his waist with one of his arms, the black cat on the other. 

It took five more minutes for the two of them to arrive at said motel. They went in through the main door and stood there in the reception area. "It's three forty in the morning..." He could hear Tony speak whilst he used his free hand to ring the bell. 

A man came from a door behind the counter, wearing a black robe and seeming surprised. 

"Hello, Agent! Are you the owner of every single bloody thing in this town?" Tony asked laughing and Banner decided he had to review his idea of the other not being so drunk. The man in front of them did not look like some kind of agent. In truth, he looked more like a nice guy from his decade. Probably someone whose company he would enjoy back then. This could be just the relief talking, though.

"What happened to you two?!" The man said, ignoring Tony and clearly concerned.

"Well, that's a long story, Agent. One that would be better told over a cup of coffee, bandages on our feet and a call to the police station."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys have enjoy it.  
> Please feel free to leave comments, suggestions, point out mistakes or leave Kudos!  
> Kissus  
> and  
> PUF


	6. Everybody loves a clown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Science-Bros, and well.. we didn't nickname the fic Time Travel by chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry we're late, we're total douchebags and we do not deserve to live right now...  
> Aaaanyway, here it goes the chapter and we see you next week ;)  
> P.S.: the strange title, all of them are from SPN episodes, if you were wondering

Tony sat on a chair looking at his feet - which Phil had helped him clean up and bandage. Pep was sleeping on the nearby table, not giving a fuck about her surroundings. He took a sip from his cup of coffee, Bruce on the chair beside him, apparently still distressed, his head on the backrest. "I need some sleep." 

"So this makes us two."

Coulson had listened to their story with a gentle smile, and something told Tony he didn't believe in it. "So," the bald man said, "how have you too met?" 

It was a tricky question - he could not answer the truth, he did not want to have someone thinking he was crazy. As a simple solution, he held Banner's hand. "He is my boyfriend."

The look on Bruce's face was priceless, but he did not contradict the lie. Agent did not say a word, only rose an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

The doctor let go of Tony's hand, almost angrily, and got up. "No. If you two may excuse me, I have to sleep." He left then to the bedroom that had been set for them. The playboy laughed drily before drinking a bit more of his coffee. He would not sleep right now, if only for stubborness. Phil got up shortly afterwards. "I'll go to sleep as well, please try not to break anything."

The man went to his own room, leaving Tony by himself. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back - this life was away busier than he had expected it to be. For Christ's sake! He had travelled through time, but not only him. The big guy had also, and probably the intruder if he was to remember the first time he had seen the man (thing, whatever). 

Amongst all those events he had barely had any time to think about Pepper (the "original" one), though Tony supposed that was a good thing, less painful. On the other hand, he wanted to think about her - the playboy surely did not deserve to live a pleasant life, not after what he had done. She has been happy with Happy - God, how this sentence sounded weird. 

Stark was almost falling a sleep when the door to the kitchen was opened. He glanced at its direction, only to see Officers Barton and Romanov entering - wearing black sweaters, the woman with black leggings and the man with purple (really, dude? Well, if he was happy like that, it was his choice) sweat pants. And both stared at Tony. "What are you doing here?" She asked, her cold gaze fixed on him.

"I could ask you the same."

"We live here." Natalia - or something like that - answered bluntly whilst going to the coffee machine, probably to prepair herself a cup. "Now answer me, Stark."

"Someone broke into my house and tried to kill me and Bruce."

The officers looked surprised, Clint now sat in front of him, still staring - seemingly to decide if Tony was telling the truth. Tiresome people... They were getting him pissed. "What the hell would I win tricking the two of you?"

"I supposed a man like you would find it amusing." The female officer replied, her words poisonous. The billionaire had never seen a woman in such a permanent bad mood, and he had woken up with a different woman almost everyday for like ten years. "Yeah, it's hilarious, the feeling of my feet all cut and bleeding is truly marvelous." 

Clint grinned as she settled beside him, giving the man a cup of coffee - and for the ten seconds their eyes met Tony actually saw her smile. Tony smirked, they were definitely fucking. "So Anthony, we'll take you to your house and check the place for intruders..." Barton said, much more friendly than his partner.

"I'll have to wait for Bruce, he went to bed."

"Who is Bruce, by the way?"

"My boyfriend." Because no, the doctor didn't have an opinion on the matter. 

The two tried their best not to look surprised, but the failure was cristal clear. "Your boyfriend?" Natasha repeated, as if her mind was still trying to process the matter.

"Yes. He lives with me." It was not a complete lie - they lived indeed in the same house, just not in the same century. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to have some make up sex." He then stood and walked towards the hallway in which Banner's bedroom was. When by the door, he turned back to say "Please watch over Pep, she's terribly moody in the morning."

-ooooo-

Tony and Bruce looked to the mess that was the living room. 

Even if the 'younger' man did enjoy a bit of chaos, it was a bit too much - the place was completly destroyed. Come on, it had taken him a week to get everything in place! Clint was by their side, as he and Natasha - this was officer Romanov's name - had come some hours earlier. They did not find anyone, but the place had definitely been fucked up by a lunatic. Deputy Fury had been there as well and asked them all sorts of questions. 

Both men living in the house decided the fake relationship was the best possible disguise - actually, Tony had talked Bruce into it - and now were mildly acting the part. After the questioning, Tony pressed charges and the psychiatrist visited the local doctor to exam his anckle. Then finally, after buying new clothes (a fun experience for Banner), the two officers drove them back - not as they had anything else to do. 

Upon arriving, Pepper immediately meowled towards the ceiling.

"I see Mrs. Potts, no need for concern. I'm fine."

She looked pleased and soon found a random spot to lay and rest - completely absent of everything, as expected. The billionaire walked to the TV - it had been so expensive and the definition so high... The doctor, though, went to the bookshelves. "You're going to have a great deal of work to do, Anthony... So I'll pick a book and stand out of your way." 

"You're gonna help me Banner."

"In your dreams, Stark." They smirked to each other as the psychiatrist went to the veranda. 

"I thought you had lied, but I assume I was wrong." Clint said, looking at him. Tony wanted to laugh out loud - he must be a freaking good actor to trick everyone into believing him - but only smiled. "Perhaps that will teach you to trust in me." 

Stark then sighed, glaring at the complete mess. Fuck... If he ever saw the motherfucker again, he would make him pay for every single piece of expensive furniture. "Want some help?" Natasha asked from the kitchen door. "Yeah, we could give you a hand." Barton said, smiling for the first time since they'd met. 

"I did not know the police helped with such things."

"Man, you're the first exciting thing to happen in this town ever since... Always." The male officer answered, already moving through the living room looking for a place to start. 

Well, at least things would go faster now. The three cleared the room in little over one hour and a great deal of things maybe would have to be thrown away. Natasha put the shelves and books to order and Clint had fixed most of the furniture - the damage had been, they saw, mostly to the picture frames, broken and torn apart. Tony sighed, those should be tough to recover - but then JARVIS probably had some copies of everything. By the end of the day, luckly there was only one photo still missing - one from his 24th birthday, the last picture of everyone together at the Stark mansion. It broke his heart not to find it. 

After the abused room had gone back to some normalty, Tony went to the kitchen for a snack for everyone - which ended up as randomly assembled sandwhiches and glasses of coke.

"If the two of you are hungry, feel free to grab something. I'll go to the veranda to talk to Bruce." Tony said and took some food to bring outside. He needed to talk to Bruce about the intruder, because, if his theory was right... Their timelines were probably not the only ones invaded.

Bruce was sitting in the three seats bench, unsurprisingly reading a book about modern psychiatry. Stark sat on the right and silently offered the coke, receiving in exchange a soft smile. "Thanks, Tony." 

"You deserve it, honey." The 'younger' man said with irony. Banner rolled his eyes and took the glass. "How is the clean up doing?"

Tony moved his head in a 'so-so' gesture while taking a bite of the sandwhich - which tasted unexpectedly good. He would have to thank Phil for doing the shopping for them, eventually. Only then did he notice that he was thinking about things as if Bruce was going to stay. However, the psychiatrist would obviously go back to his own time once they found a way to control the portals. 

And Tony was going to be alone again. 

"So... Bruce, have you considered the possibility that the intruder might have used the portals?" He asked, trying to change the subject in his mind. 

"Of course he has. It's quite obvious."

"Well, I agree with you that that's a possibility, but I wouldn't say it was obvious."

"If you consider there were no marks suggesting he entered the property by any sort of vehicle and if he entered by foot JARVIS would have warned you sooner. And he was also familiar with the house." And had once desappeared on thin air.

He had a point and the 'younger' man nodded. They shared the sandwhiches and the coke, talking about the important changes on Bruce's field of work. Eventually, Natasha and Clint showed up and sat there with them. The four talked about everything they felt like talking about - well, Tony and Clint talked and the other two sometimes contributed with some coments. Before they could even notice how, all were drinking beer and eating some steaks the male officer ended up preparing. 

Some time later, Tony was kind of drunk, letting his head rest agaisnt the doctor's shoulder. By his side Natasha drank her beer in silence, playing with Pepper. 

"Are you two going back to the motel?" Banner asked looking to her. 

"Eventually, after the steaks maybe. If Clint is a little less drunk by then." She seemed cold, but the playboy could sense she was not in her normal mood, considering the woman did not reveal it easily. Perhaps that was the reason why she didn't even consider driving the pollice car.

"I'm not drunk...Alright, maybe a bit." The blue-eyed man chimed in, smiling a whole lot more. He then put the remaining steaks on a couple of plates and delivered those to them, one small piece going to the black cat. 

"You two can sleep in my room..." The billionaire decided, finishing his nineth beer of the night. "And me and Bruce in the guest room."

It was really clear that Ronamov had already been expecting this - could she read him that easily? He shrugged and got up, pulling the psychiatrist up by the hand. He then winked to Clint with a smirk in his lips. The other man only sighed, as he had already given up on trying to make Tony stop. As the saying goes, resistence is futile - if the billionaire had put his mind into something, he would go for it. 

"Tony, you really need to admit your sexual interest in me." Banner said - making a joke? - much to Stark's surprise, who couldn't avoid laughing out loud. They stood in the middle of the hallway for a few seconds, Pepper meowling in front of the door.

Then they entered the guest room, a familiar cold jelly-like sensation promptly going through their bodies. 

And they were standing in an old, broken and abandoned children's room, which looked suspiciously like it was back from the 19th century. 

"I don't suppose this is your room, Bruce..."

"No, it's not, Stark"

'Oh fuck... Not again...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yo, hope you liked it :)  
> Suggestions, mistakes to be pointed out, questions, you know how this goes  
> Kissus


	7. Children shouldn't play with dead things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More people enter the equation. More questions, less answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peoples, I have a biiiig anouncement! I'm neither gay or european, just a great douche that first couldn't update because I was sick, then wouldn't 'cause I was tired, then didn't 'cause I forgot.  
> I, Jana, am reeeeeealy sorry for the enormous delay and hope at least it's a good chapter... (If not, it's Clara's fault, I'm just her not-so-amazing beta)  
> Go on, darlings

The scene before them had obviously been a suicide attempt.

 

Or at least it was what Bruce assumed for that which he could see. The person sitting on the bed by a corner was shaking and pale, dark bags clearly visible underneath his blue eyes, the man's wrists tied with white fabric, blood stains all over those. Steve sat next to him, holding a bloodied pocket knife with the hand not securing the bloody straps in place. This was neither his nor Stark's time, therefore probably belonged to the injured man - his clothes at least seemed of accord with their surroundings. 

 

"Who are you, intruders?" He asked coldly, his voice revealing he felt threatened and suspicious - just like Banner himself had back when Tony came through to his room, which made little sense considering Rogers was there as well. And what was Steve doing here anyway?! The questions were put aside though, as the fair-skinned man got up, angry and irrational looking eyes staring hazely at them. 

 

"Who are you two?!" The words barely out of his mouth, he actually tried to attack Stark, suddenly launching his own body forwards. 

 

Much to the two other men surprise, the playboy just manhandled the disturbed stranger back to the bed, who then promptly passed out. Banner went into a more pratical mode than baffled, checking temperature and breathing - everything seemed fine... well, considering the blood loss - before finally turned to his friend.

 

"Bruce where have you been?" The blonde asked while finding purchase on the doctor's shoulders, eyes nakedly worried. "And how did you get here?" Well, they walked through the door. It was just a detail that they had walked in 2010 and got out in the 19th century.

 

"Time Travel, have you heard of it?" Tony said, his eyes shamelessly traveling the soldier's body as he spoke. His friend rolled his eyes and smirked. Bruce was sort of used to this little shit of a side, he knew Roger's was one of those men, it never bothered Peggy nor Banner, to see it play out was rather interesting, though the timing was far from proper 

 

Steve frowned a bit, looking down. "Time travel? It isn't possible...". Banner had to argue it was, they were standing here right now, weren't they? But technicalities were better discussed some other time.

 

It's very much possible, and very much amazing. Not thati expect you to be as excited abiu this..” Tony replied to Steve’s comment. The psychiatrist rolled his eyes, why did the playboy have to be such a jerk? Thankfully, his friend mostly ignored the comment.

“That’s why you were gone?” How long had he been gone anyway? It was something to check if time flowed different in different timelines. Banner nodded and shrugged, Steve didn't say a word, but Bruce could see he was annoyed by it. Steve was a great guy, but he was no saint 

 

Yeah, you know I would never leave you behind, Steve. I was in the office and Tony popped up. And before I realized it, I was in 2010.” Already, each word he said only made it all sound crazier. Steve nodded, trying to work the pieces in his mind. Bruce could almost see the gears working. "I would have come back, but the portal closed." 

"It's okay, Bruce. I just... Forget it." He turned his back on Bruce, still upset. Not that the doctor could blame him.

 

“Really guys, that’s some serious bromance thing you have going on between the two of you.” Stark said from his seat on an armchair on the left corner. The blonde got confused again, and this time the doctor joined him. 'This Bromance thing' should be a slang from the ‘younger’s’ man time, something that sounded terribly like ‘romance’ for Bruce to like it. 

 

“Quiet, Stark. You’re being a pain, again.” Tony laughed, getting a smile out of Banner.

 

“Stark? Like Howard?” 

 

This time, Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that asshole is my dad.”

 

“Don’t speak of Howard like this.” The soldier said promptly. It was a delicate matter - Howard Stark had been one of the best friends Steve had during his time at the army, he didn’t want to hear him be offended. So, before Tony decided to reply and the two of them began some argument, Bruce interveened.

 

“It’s late, everyone is tired, so why don’t we sleep a bit?” He proposed. They deserved a good night of sleep and maybe, if they were lucky, the psycho guy from last night wouldn’t show up.

 

“So mister suicidal-psycho can attack us while we sleep? No, Thanks.”

 

"Don't be so rude...He must have been through a lot." Bruce knew that for experience that no one choose to do such thing only because they felt like doing it. He wanted to understand why this had happened, he wanted to help if he could.

 

"I know." Tony said somberly, looking at the sleeping man.

 

-ooooo-

 

For the first time in his life Tony was thankful he had such a crazy sleep hours. He stayed awake in the armchair, trying to keep his thoughts in order, trying to keep them focused on the present. He had to chuckle, this was not the present, this was the 19th century, he was in the company of a dead man. A man as dead as Pepper... He wondered if this time travel thing could let him see her one last time, maybe save her... Stupid! Stupid! 

 

Why was he thinking this? 

 

It was useless...

 

Pepper was dead, psychoLoki - he had recognized the dark-haired right away from the creepy headstone - was dead, and Bruce and Steve were probably dead too... Tony himself might be dead in a couple of months as well. 

 

"Please..." He heard a whisper coming from Steve's bed. The blonde man was sweating and moving around. 'Nightmares...' The playboy knew how that felt, right after the 'incident' he spent around three months barely closing his eyes. The soldier had his lips parted and sighed, breathing heavily. It would be sexy if it weren't for the context. 

 

On the bed next to him, Loki was sleeping, and the billionaire suspected he was crying. Well, he really had been through a lot. If Tony had the chance, he would talk to him. He couldn't promise to be nice though, maybe it would even make Loki angrier.

 

Banner was stiff in his bed, breathing heavily. Well, for the look of things none of them had a good time sleeping. They were a bunch of broken men, united by chance. If things had been different they would never met. Why did this happen? He was still trying to understand the portal things. There should be some reasonable explanation, and maybe he could change the present...

 

Tony sighed he was thinking too much. He looked back to the sleeping men, trying to guess what was it they dreamed of. Loki, probably his kids - the 'playboy' reasoned they were dead already, considering the others and him were at their (presumably former) bedroom. Bruce he didn't know, but probably war related stuff. Steve possibly the same. 

 

Tony was getting more tired every minute that passed. Without even noticing it, he fell asleep on the armchair.

 

It was a bad dream. He was back in the cave at Afghanistan. Tied up to a chair, he tried to set himself free, but the ropes cut his skin. In front him, Pepper and Happy sat in a car, laughing and flirting. He knew the bomb was going to explode, they were going to die. He tried to scream, but he was mute. He tried to call them, but they did not look. There was a chronometer and he was running out of time. 

 

Ten. 

 

Nine. 

 

Eight. 

 

Seven. 

 

Six. 

 

Five. 

 

Four. 

 

Three. 

 

Two. 

 

One.

 

And the explosion happened, blood splattered him, metal fragments cut his skin. The smell was terrible. He was sobbing, feeling the tears wet his face, as his friends' mangled bodies hit the wall beside him. Then Pepper's head turned towards him.

 

"Why didn't you save us, Tony?"

 

He woke up crying, a scream trapped inside his mouth. Tony could hardly breath - it was another anxiety crisis, great. He got up and stumbled to the door, falling on his knees in the middle of the way. As if it would help, he removed his shirt, bowing down and trying to calm himself. 

 

It took him around twenty minutes for him to succeed. He noticed it when he began feeling cold, as he had to put the shirt back on and get up. It was a pure luck that no one showed up. He left the room, walking around a bit confused. The house was essentially similar to his, but was different in its own way. He walked downstairs, yawing and stretching himself, towards some noise and great smell coming from the kitchen.

 

"Good morning." He heard a voice from down the hallway and found Loki resting his back against the wall. Even if the words were supposed to be kind, there was bitterness and aggression behind it. He also looked like he had a shit night of sleep, but hadn't all of them?

 

"Good morning. Are you going to try killing me again?" He wouldn't be Stark if he didn't make some jokes even if they sounded so blank and forced in the situation.

 

"No. You seem particularly harmless." The 'older' man answered, his expression still angry and annoyed.

Well, at least Tony _had_ tried, not the best try or the most appropriated.

"Good to know." He stood next to Loki, resting his back against the wall as well. "So, are you any better?" 

 

There was an awkward moment, in which Tony was pretty sure Loki was gonna punch him in the face. He probably deserved it, all things considered. If Pepper was here, or Happy, or Rhodey, they would have beaten some sense into him, just told him to shut up and stop being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole. 

"It could be worst." Loki shrugged, trying for nonchalant. For two or three more minutes they stood there in silence, staring at where the sun light hit the wall. "What's the date today?"

 

"February 10th, 1880." 130 years in the past, sweet. 

 

"Are you hungry?" The pale man asked, not even giving much attention to Stark. Already walking away.

 

"Yeah." 

 

Without further adue he followed Loki to the kitchen to the kitchen. The smell and the warmth in there made him smile, as did the soldier fully dressed and with an apron tied around his waist. Rogers was humming a song, some melody from his time that Tony had never heard, probably. The two newly arrived sat on the blue chairs around the table. The blond hadn't noticed them yet, or maybe he had and just didn't care. Anyway, he teased.

 

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells, Cap."

 

Steve was not surprised when he turned back to face them, arching an eyebrow. So he had noticed them. "So you two _are_ awake. Good morning is in order, though it's almost noon."

"You're really sassy for a grandpa." Tony joked, then turned to a silent Loki. And something inside him felt warmer. The guy was smiling, resting his chin on his hand. Stark imagined how long had it been since any of them had a moment of peace like this.

"Where's the other one?" The man in question asked.

"Bruce? He's taking a bath." The soldier answered, taking a pie out of the oven and putting it to cool down by the window. Tony stayed there looking at them both, thinking about how broken they seemed. Loki with black bags under his eyes and really messy hair, his clothing still rumpled; he hadn't even tried to fix it. And the blonde, even if taking care not to show it, was pale, sweaty and looked tired. The 'younger' man then took a silver spoon to look at his reflection. "God, you look like shit Stark." He ended up whispering to himself.

"Yeah you do."

"I must agree with you." 

"Thank's for the unasked comment. You two sure know how to make a guy feel good." He was bitter, his words cutting.

Loki frowned, all too displeased. Tony rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand on his face. Of fucking course he needed to be a douchebag with the depressed widower who lost all of his children.

"Sorry, I'm an ass Borson."

 

"How did you know my surname?" 

 

And the silence that followed was more than awkward, it was cold and unforgiving. Because Tony did not want to tell it, but if he stayed quiet it would only be worst. Loki's green eyes narrowed and he repeated his question, his voice increased in volume, threatening. "How did you know my surname, Stark?"

 

Tony's breathing got heavy - he couldn't just tell this guy he had seen his headstone, could he? And that he would be dead before this year had ended. If anyone told Tony that, he would be pissed and even more depressed. But when he saw the other man moving his hand towards the knife, he saw he'd have to spill it. 

 

"Please, don't. You're too weak for even trying." Bruce said from the door. All three looked at him - the doctor seemed rested, but forcefully calm. "Let's all just pretend we're civilized and have breakfast together." 

 

"Not before he says how he knows my last name." 

 

The billionaire rolled his eyes, getting angry at all this insistence. Couldn't he just leave this alone? Bruce sat on one of the chairs left, staring at Tony. "He has a point, how do you know it?"

 

"Because he was fucking buried next to his kids! If you look in your yard, you will find the headstones too. The only thing I did was to ask JARVIS to do some research on him." He blurted out, actually getting up in the middle of the sentence, frustrated. 

 

"Well, I never expected to live a lot longer. I did not even expect to be alive today." Loki stated in that cold tone that only got the 'playboy' angrier. This guy was acting like Tony had over reacted, like he was being too soft. And it was so fucking obviously an act, anyone could see this had affected him it had to have affected him. 

 

"Well, you will be unhappy to know you'll only be dead in the last day of October." Tony said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He had no time or patience to deal with it, he just couldn't let someone be that reckless. They stood there in an angry silence, staring at each other, until Steve broke it.

 

"So, who wants coffee?" Steve said putting the mugs in front of them and arching an eyebrow when they looked to him, not giving an opening to anyone to disagree.

 

"Sure do." Banner answered, acting like nothing had really happened. The blond nodded serving his friend, before sitting down with them.

"If anyone wants pie, just grab it."

Tony did it, because there was no use with getting more stressed out with the situation. He sat back and was about to eat when Steve turned to Loki, speaking patience, but still seeming tired of it.

 

"You need to eat." 

Loki arched an eyebrow, and the soldier rolled his eyes, serving him a slice of pie. "Just eat it. If not for yourself at least because I went through the work of making it." That seemed to do the trick, because Loki grabbed a bit of the pie and took a sip of the coffee. They all ate breakfast in relative silence, with just one or two sentences spoke, just to make it less uncomfortable. The Captain was a freaking great cook, it all tasted like the food his grandmother could have made to him (if he had ever met her, that is). After they were done, Bruce got up, glancing at Loki. 

 

"Can we talk in the living room?"

 

The other seemed reluctant, but ended getting up and both walked to the other room. Tony sighed, trying to guess what he had done now. Steve sat beside him, looking at the door. 

 

"Wanna go for a walk?" He proposed to the blond, letting his head fall back.

 

"It's cold outside."

 

"We can take it."

 

Steve sighed defeatedly. "I suppose we could borrow some coats."

 

-ooooooooo-

 

"Do not try to analyze me, Doctor. You will not like it when you are done." 

 

Loki said, sitting on one of his armchairs. He was the aggressive type, always trying to be superior - those were usually the ones that had suffered the most - and, for what the psychiatrist had observed, paranoia was also on the table. Any other conclusion, though, could only be taken with further observation. 

 

"Why do you say that?" Bruce asked, seating across from him, on a leather armchair. 

 

"Because I am not a pleasant person to get to know. Even my parents knew it." The 'older' man sounded really secure of what he was saying.

 

"I'm not like most people." He really wasn't. Banner crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee. He found Loki interesting - he, too, was definitely not like most people. He was smart and sharp, the kind of person Bruce would enjoy working with. "I believe I could help you with your depression, maybe help you overcome whatever grief you're going through."

 

"Have you ever lost a kid, doctor?"

 

"Never had one to lose." Was his quick answer, and for a few seconds his mind went to Betty - he missed her sometimes. She had been gone for five years now. Even if did not love her as much as he used to, his heart would still hurt when he remembered her smile, or how she had left him. It was all his fault, though. 

 

"Then you will never understand me." The other man's voice brought him back from his thoughts. 

 

"But at least I can listen to you."

 

They stared at each other for a couple of minutes, both faking relaxed smiles. "We can try it." Loki conceeded at last. Banner smiled, having won this small battle. Maybe, he could really help Loki. Maybe, just maybe, the doctor was not so broken and useless as he was starting to believe. "But how will we meet? I don't suppose you are planning on staying here."

 

"Well, I hope we'll eventually learn how to control the passages. I could check on you once a day." It was something very vague, he knew it, but no matter.

 

"You're really thinking I'll cut my wrists the moment you leave." The other man replied sarcastic. 

 

"Why would I think that?" Was all that Bruce said, rising one of his eyebrows to make sure his irony was showing.

 

The other one rolled his eyes. This entire situation was weird, he knew he had to be impartial and cold with his patients, but he felt sorry for Loki. On another note, it was strange to take care of someone already dead. However, this was no time to think too much.

 

"So, want to have our first session?"

 

There were a few moments of silence before Loki began talking. 

 

"What exactly do you expect me to say? I don't know you, I don't trust you."

 

"What you feel like saying. What do you think of this whole surreal experience? It might be a good place to start."

 

-oooo-

 

Tony and Steve were sitting on the steps to the veranda, wearing coats they borrowed from Loki's wardrobe. They had already walked around the property, seen the lake and Stark had led him to where the graves were. All that in half an hour, but when they got back both decided it was for the best if they stayed outside until the other two decided to join them. Tony shoved his hand inside his trousers' pocket and felt the cold metal of the dog tags. He had kept them with him. Why? It didn’t matter. He pulled it off and extend his hand to the other man. “I guess this belongs to you.”

 

The blonde looked to the tags for a couple of seconds, then blinked a bit confused. "Why do you have them?”

 

“They appeared in my night stand a while back. I just kept them with me, trying to find out who was the owner.”

 

Steve took them and put them on. “Thank you for returning them. They are important.” He smiled softly, looking at Tony. “Maybe you are not that bad, Stark. A bit of a douche maybe, but not a bad person.”

 

“Don’t get your hopes too high, Cap.” 

 

Laughter came, but soon vanished - as had been for both for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, opinions, questions, suggestions, want to point out mistakes, we are always glass to hear from people :)  
> Also, I'd like to thank MasterOfMonkeyness for showing us we should change the summary. If it's still horrible, feel free to give us a hand ;)  
> Peace out, bitches


	8. Bedtime Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And let the love begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The notes that are missing  
> We do not own shit. Not the avengers, not marvel, only our crazy plot.

How long had Tony been alone in the house? Three days? A week? He wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure of was that no more portals had opened. He would even believe it had all been nothing but a drunk dream, but Jarvis had a couple of videos of the intruder, Bruce walking around, they disappearing and Tony returning.

The playboy was now in his bedroom, wearing a black hoodie and large gray sweat pants. He’d slept a bit, two hours or so. Pepper rested on his torso, his hands caressing her fur, distracting himself from his loneliness. It was difficult - he had travelled through time and had met people that were already dead. Oh god, how that sounded like some cliché film.

He could almost hear the TV host’s voice saying from nowhere.

“One house. Four Times. Fate brought them together and now they must overcome their differences and traumas in order to find a killer. Maybe somewhere in this mess, love will blossom”

‘For Fuck’s sake Tony, you’re becoming more cheesy every day.’ He thought and rolled his eyes at himself. Why had he thought of love, anyway? Was he that desperate for some affection? If times were different, he would have some company to keep his bed warm. However, now all he wanted was to have company, someone to talk to, someone to share meals with. He wanted Pepper back, he wanted Happy back, he wanted Rhodey back.

“You’re beginning to sound too disturbed for your own good, Tony.” He mumbled to himself, staring at the ceiling. “You should try leaving the house, maybe go to Coulson’s dinner and find a nice one-night-stand to forget about all this time travel bullshit.” He liked that idea very much; sex was always a great way to relieve stress. When was the last time he’d done it? He couldn’t remember exactly when, but he was sure it had been too long for Tony Stark.

“So this is how it feels like?” A different male voice - though not completely strange to his ears - said.

The playboy rose to a sitting position, dislodging the now displeased cat, in order to look at who had spoken. He knew who it was, but it was nevertheless an oddly comforting confirmation to see Loki standing by the opposite wall, seeming vaguely intrigued. “It’s good to see you too, princess.” The man with the goatee - not beard anymore, he had shaved at some point - teased the other.

The ‘older’ man frowned for one second and then his face smoothed out to a smirk. Walking around the room, he regarded the furniture unimpressed. "Everything here is so... empty and white." He said while touching the white wardrobe.

"It's better than those dark rooms full of things." Tony really didn't want to discuss home déco with a guy from the 19th century, but Loki got offended so easily with the criticism that it was even funny. "Don't act like this. It's not like I offended your mother, you shouldn't take everything so seriously."

Tony finally got up and went to stand by the other. They stared at each other for a couple of moments, until the paler rolled his eyes and Stark gave him a half smile. Between their feet, Pepper meowled, as if demanding attention - succeeding as Loki took her in his arms, smiling sweetly for his standarts. "I would never take you as one for cats."

"She's more than cat, Pepper is more to me than most people I know." The cat stared at Loki, mesuring him and apparently approving. Pepper was soft hearted even if she pretended to be tough.

"She's beatiful."

The compliment seemed to please the cat, who licked Loki's nose and pawned his cheek. When then put back on the ground, Pepper left them without looking back. "You are too good for this, right, Pep?" Tony said as means of joke, for now both smiled awkwardly and neither knew what to say or do.

There were good five minutes until the silence - albeit mostly comfortable - was broken. "Do you want to take a bath?" Was the first stupid thing that came to Tony's mind. Loki shrugged in response. "Come on, I'll show you the bathroom."

When he opened the door to said room and turned on the lights, Loki's eyes widened and he looked like he was seeing heaven - and Tony was, for once, not exagerating.

"This is so...clean." He uttered while walking towards the middle of the admitedly huge bathroom, looking around. Tony had to control himself in order not to laugh at this priceless reaction. He whispered to Jarvis, "turn on the water, Jarvis, warm and perfect. Let's see how the princess deals with this."

The system obbeyed and the shower went on. The 'older' man smiled while looking at the water, splashing it and wetting his sleeves. "How is this even possible?" He was confused, smile still on and looking back at Tony.

"Technology." The billionaire smiled back in a childish like excitment. "I'll go pick a towel and some clothes for you." He closed the door and walked downstairs, where some towels were in the laundry, putting some food in the cat's bowl while at it.

"Sir, must I inform Officers Romanov and Barton that you won't join them to dinner today?"

"Was I going to have dinner with them?" He didn't remember being invited to this or anything.

"Yes, Sir. Officer Barton invited you and Doctor Banner." Oh, he remembered it now. Tony was going to dismiss dinner, saying that Bruce was sick (because well, he couldn't just transport him here).

"Yeah, dismiss dinner. Say I'll go have lunch with them at Coulson's. Thursday."

"Sure, Sir."

He walked upstairs, not finding Pepper anywhere - the playboy shrugged, the cat was probably asleep in some random place. He entered the bedroom, picking up his Black Sabbath t-shirt, some closed package of underwear - he had to be prepared if someone stayed over - and some sweat pants that would probably be short for Loki. Tony then returned to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of the paler man's silhoutte - it was something rather enjoyable, he would like to explore it some. But instead, he just put the clothing and towel on the sink counter, retrieving Loki's now discarded garments to wash them (not like he got anything better to do).

"This is terrific, Stark. I think I'll be coming to have showers in your time."

"In your dreams, Borson."

"We shall see."

Tony left the bathroom and smiled going downstairs, the company awkward but also enjoyable - even if it was from the suicidal-psycho. In the kitchen, he made a sandwhich and filled two glasses with coke. There he sat, eating and thinking about nothing exactly, looking at nowhere.

After a while, he heard someone speaking. "You have no respect for your guests." He looked at Loki, who stood near the door. And god, he looked even better in the 'younger' man's clothing. "I'm hungry too, Stark."

"Well, you have the little soldier cooking for you. Don't complain."

"He went back to his time, not long after you went missing."

"Ah." The dark-haired visitor sat in front of him and the 'playboy' offered him a glass. The other one drank a sip and looked disgusted. "Too sweet."

"You think so?" He was surprised someone could not like the fizzy drinks, but he guessed it was because the other came from a time where there wasn't such thing.

"Where can I sleep?" Loki asked.

"May I sugest you to sleep at the Sir's bedroom? The guest room is still to be cleaned after the recent attacks."

The 'older' man startled, looking around for who had spoken, but couldn't find anyone. Tony laughed at this - it was always fun to watch people's reactions to Jarvis. "Bruce didn't tell you about him?"

"I didn't talk that much to Banner."

"JARVIS is sort of my butler, you may talk and ask him things."

"He can sleep at your bed, Sir. Of course, if such thing is not a problem for you, mister Borson."

They stared at each other for a couple of instants and Tony raised one of his eyebrows ironicaly. It was a silent challenge between them, which Loki answered with a cocky smile. "I have no problem, I'm just not sure if Tony will be able to control himself."

"You cocky bastard."

\-----

"Anthony! Wake up!"

He woke up scared and sat in the bed. The 'playboy' was having difficulty in breathing and took his time to focus. He looked for Loki, finding the paler man kneeling in bed, sweaty and startled. "What?!" He said a bit angry - Tony had just woke up from a nightmare. The other's blue eyes stared in response, irritation clear in them.

"Come and help me already." He pulled the billionaire off the bed and dragged him to the bathroom.

"What do you want?"

The other didn't even have to answer, for the man with the goatee saw the reason.

Steve was sitting on the bathroom floor, drenched in sweat, wearing only white shorts. His hair was messy and Tony guessed there were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks.

His breathing was more erratic than Tony's and the blonde's eyes were blank. He didn't even seem to notice the other two.

"When?" He whispered to Loki.

"I don't know. I woke up and went to drink some water. Then that thing, Jarvis? He told me there was someone in the bathroom. And I found him here."

Both got closer to Rogers, but he did not react. Loki didn't seem sure if he should touch the soldier - after all, the man was obviously having a panic attack. Tony kind of hoped Bruce was there.

"Steve..." He whispered to the blonde, who shivered at the sound.

"Please...Please...Forgive me." Rogers whispered looking - but not really - at them; he was obviously hallucinating. The paler of the three touched his shoulder, caressing it.

"Relax, Steve." His tone of voice was full of pity.

Both Tony and Loki got up and forcefully pulled the Captain with them - he was the bigger of the three, but his knees seemed to be failing him. They managed to drag him to the bed before Steve closed his eyes. The 'playboy' looked at him, feeling kind of sad - the soldier still looked younger than him, and if you disconsidered the year he had been born, he indeed was. And to see someone this young suffering that much was kind of heartbreaking.

"We should let him rest." Loki finally broke the silence.

"I suppose so. Let's stay in the living room."

When they were leaving the room, though, the blonde gripped Tony's wrist. "Please, don't leave me alone..."

He was still not on his right mind, but neither man could say no. Tony sighed and sat on the bed. "I will use this against you eventually, Rogers." He whispered, a bit annoyed, as at the same time Loki sat on the other side of the bed. Steve calmed down and at some point drifted to sleep - laid on his stomach, spread on the bed (one of his arms around Tony's legs and his face on Loki's lap).

"It almost looks like we are cuddling." The billionaire commented, looking at him.

Loki hinted a smile. "He is." They stayed there in silence, until Tony broke it again. "It's been a long time since I've had this much physical contact with someone."

"At least someone as good-looking as him." The other man completed. And for some seconds their eyes met, both smirking - and if this was not flirting, his name wasn't Anthony Edward Stark. When they finally broke the eye contact, Tony relaxed and let his head fall back. Looking at the ceiling and tracing his fingers over Steve's muscled arm, his mind was settled on some AC/DC song. He was so tired, but sleeping would be to take the risck of having another nightmare.

For an hour or so he rested, playing some imaginary guitar and using all his concentration not to get horny. At some point he glanced at Loki, who was caressing the blonde's hair. Something in his caring act made Tony realize how much the other must miss his kids, and want to have someone caring for him too.

Some time later, a faint scratching noise on the door interrupted his thoughts, then so did Pepper's insistent meowling. Tony didn't even think twice, he got out of under Steve's arm and ran to open the door. The cat bolted inside seemingly desperate, which had the billionaire looking outside searching for its reason - to no avail, though.

"Is he here?" The paler asked, worry and anger fighting to take place upon his features.

"It doesn't look like so." He closed the door. "Jarvis?"

"I don't see any abnormal readings inside the house, and the cameras haven't perceived anything."

Tony sat back on the bed, holding the cat carefully on his arms. "Calm girl, I'm here." He caressed her head and her fur, having his tight pawned at in return - she was nervous, for what reason Tony did not know.

"Sleep, Stark." Loki said coldly, and appeared not inclined at all on following his own advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dears!  
> Sorry it took us so long, Jana was procrastinating to do the revision and I am procrastinating to write.  
> Jana says you can have her soul and she'll be your eternal slave because it took her so long.  
> I only say I hope I can write more before posting the next chapter, and that please don't think Loki is ooc(even if he kind of is) the next background oneshot will explain stuff.  
> As always feel free to leave comments, point out mistakes and leave kudos.  
> Kissus
> 
> Puf.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this chapther! The next chapter will be here next week  
> If you can't/won't comment on Archive, our tumblrs:  
> http://pandora-is-on-the-box.tumblr.com/(RCClara)  
> and  
> http://spice-and-raging-kittens.tumblr.com/ (JanaRump).  
> Kissus. PUF


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